


Then Kiss Me

by Sierra_Butterfly



Category: The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:54:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10766544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra_Butterfly/pseuds/Sierra_Butterfly
Summary: Nothing is more tragic than watching the woman you love look at you with adoration, yet still go back to her fiance.





	Then Kiss Me

It was nearing 1 AM and the streets of East Village were a blur of stumbling drunks and yellow taxis. Each time a bar door opened music poured out into the streets, creating a cacophony of jazz, rap, and fangirl screaming. If one listened hard enough they would even hear that peculiar, grey headed man on the corner condemning everyone to hell--not that anyone paid him any mind. 

It was Friday night and many had today off from work. Tomorrow--or perhaps today would be more accurate--was the 4th of July, and everyone was in a celebratory mood. 

“Let’s go in here,” Raven called several yards ahead, waving one hand over her head and pointing dramatically at a little bar with Drake music pouring out. 

Bellamy exchanged an amused look with Clarke while Octavia practically ran through the crowds to catch up with the feisty engineer. “Why not?” Clarke asked, but her voice was carried away with all the noise. 

_Because the music is awful,_ Bellamy thought with a smirk, but nevertheless he followed the blonde after their friends. 

By the time he and Clarke got in the doors a short, stocky man with a huge grin was guiding them down the stairs to the pub area, offering animated compliments to Raven along the way. Given that this was their third bar for the night and their attire, he supposed it wasn’t shocking that the server took them to the party floor. 

They ended up in a large round booth, Bellamy and Clarke in the middle while Octavia sat on his right. “What can I get you all to start off with?’ the server asked, though his gaze never left Raven’s cleavage for long. 

“A round of tequila shots,” Raven batted her eyes and Bellamy rolled his. Between the three women, they had gotten several free rounds, and he suspected this bar would be no different. 

Whenever the server--Jeremy, they discovered--returned with the shots Clarke stopped him. “Could we get some quesadillas to split too?” 

Bellamy glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and felt his lips quirk in amusement. Leave it to Clarke to force everyone to eat and drink water as they went. Then again, he supposed she was a large part of why he rarely had hangovers in the mornings after. 

They would all appreciate that tomorrow when the fireworks started. 

“We should dance!” Octavia exclaimed after sucking all the juices from her lime and putting it in her now empty shot glass. 

Bellamy realized he was the only one that hadn’t taken his shot yet and quickly resolved that, taking a quick hit from the lime before shoving the glass away. He was nearing his limit, he realized as a wave of dizziness left him feeling almost floaty. 

“Hey, you alright there?” Clarke asked him, her lips close to his ear to be heard. He flinched back more than reasonable and found himself simply looking at her dumbfounded for a moment before smiling. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Her expression showed her disbelief, but he slid out of the booth and glanced at the “dance floor” which was really just an empty space created by moving a few tables around. 

Octavia was grinding against Raven in an ungraceful attempt at dirty dancing and Bellamy made a face of mock horror. 

Clarke followed after him and stumbled, hands grasping at his bicep to catch herself. “I’m done,” she laughed, still holding on to his arm as she swayed. A furrow deepened between her brows and Bellamy found himself focused on the little ridges as the song wrapped up and a new one started. Almost absently he pressed his lips between her brows, as though to relax those muscles there, and then he froze. 

What was he doing? 

_Fuck_. He thought and pulled back sharply, averting his gaze. Heat rose from his neck to his ears, and eventually to his cheeks, making his freckles stand out even more. 

“Bell?” 

“I’m going to step out for a minute,” he told her distractedly, telling the same to Octavia and Raven as he passed by them. Once he stumbled up the stairs and slipped out the front door into the cooler night air he felt his breath escape his lungs. 

_Fuck_ , he thought again and ran a hand through his dark curls. He hadn’t even thought about it before kissing her forehead. He’d barely caught himself various times that night watching her shapely ass as she swayed her hips--practically drooling over her amazing breasts that were on beautiful display with that sparkling black dress. 

_You have two minutes,_ he commanded himself and closed his eyes. _Two minutes to convince yourself you don’t love her and want her and--fuck._

Bellamy groaned through clenched teeth and pressed his back against the brick wall of the neighboring pub. An occasional passerby sent him a curious glance, possibly wondering what his pained expression was about, but no one stopped or talked to him. 

His two minutes were up. 

_Nope, still fucking love her._

Bellamy sighed and wrenched his eyes open just in time to see a whirlwind of blonde hair as the source of his agony stopped in front of him, concern and confusion staring at him in those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. “Bellamy, what’s going on?” She was in his bubble so he could hear her without them yelling what would likely be an awkward conversation. 

Clarke was in his space, and all he could focus on was the subtle, cherry blossom aroma surrounding her. She was so close, and he could barely raise his gaze from her pale pink lips adorned with sparkling lip gloss. 

He folded his arms across his chest, as thought to restrain his own hands. “Nothing,” he lied and closed his eyes again. 

She placed a hand on his forearm and he felt himself tense. 

_You’re drunk. Don’t do something you’ll regret. Don’t kiss her. Don’t tell her you fucking love her. You’re drunk._ His thoughts were on replay, like a damn mantra that he couldn’t ingrain deep enough into his subconscious. 

“It’s something,” she said, using her ‘no nonsense’ tone she would often get when teaching at the Hunter College high school. “You can tell me, you know?” 

“I know,” he admitted with a huff. “Just...not this.” 

“Why not?” she asked with a slight pout. “Is this about Lexa?” 

“No,” he said too quickly. 

“I know you don’t like her,” Clarke said almost too quiet for him to hear her. “I get it, her and I have had our rough spots, but we’ve been together for so long--”

“Do you love her?” Bellamy asked, catching her gaze with a sudden fierceness. 

“You know I do--”

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?” 

She hesitated, and that was all the answer he needed. 

“Clarke, there’s a big difference between loving someone, and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them.”

“I know that,” she protested, but she looked unsure of herself. 

Bellamy thought that her admitting the truth would give him some relief, but instead he just felt constricted. His heart was pounding too fast in his chest and his head pounded with his thoughts. “Why are you going through with it then?” 

She couldn’t offer him a reason and Bellamy felt frustration grow in the pit of his stomach. He bit back against it and leaned forward, eliminating more of the space between them. 

“You can call it off if you want to,” he said quietly. 

“I don’t know how!” Clarke said with a broken gesture. “Fuck, Bellamy. She’s the only person I’ve been with. I don’t know what to do without her.”

“You’re strong. You’ll figure it out.” 

Tears seeped out of the corner of her eyes and Bellamy felt like a total ass, but it was about damn time Clarke realized it. Regardless of how he felt about her--regardless that he would say yes to spending the rest of his life with her here and now--he hated watching his best friend trudge along in a relationship she didn’t want anymore. 

“I get it,” he continued. “She was your first kiss. Your first everything. But that doesn’t mean she has to be your last.” 

“I don’t know how to be with anyone else,” she whispered. 

And fuck his drunken mind, because his mouth fired off before he even understood what he was suggesting. “Then kiss me.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ But it was as though his mind were totally separate from his mouth now. “If you’re worried about not knowing how to be with someone else, then practice on me.” 

Clarke stared at him, lips parted in shock, while a range of emotions flashed through her wide gaze. Surprise. Confusion. Curiosity. Want. And finally, denial. “I can’t.” 

“Why not?” he asked, uncaring of the petulance in his tone. He was fucked anyways, may as well roll with it now. He just hoped they were both too drunk right now to remember this in the morning. 

“I-I’m still with Lexa. I can’t. I haven’t officially done anything. And I’m drunk. And you’re drunk. And…” she rambled off and Bellamy could see the gears of her mind shifting as she fully processed what he suggested. He knew the exact moment she’d finally seen behind all of his jealous jabs at Lexa; all of his failed attempts at relationships because he was so fucking in love with his best friend that it wasn’t even funny. 

_You’re going to lose her now,_ he thought sadly, unable to look away from her stare as he waited to see anger or disdain. 

Moments passed in tangible silence and finally her expression settled on one emotion: curiosity. 

Bellamy blinked, confused, and then her lips were pressed against his, her hands lightly cupping his jaw, and her chest pressed lightly against his. Half a second later and he was responding, an explosion of joy in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand light against her lower back while his other wrapped in her hair. 

He never wanted the moment to end, but after only a few seconds Clarke pulled back, not all of the way, just enough to press her forehead lightly against his. As their breaths mingled Bellamy tried to process what was happening, but it seemed now his drunken mind decided to work slowly again. 

“I didn’t think it was possible,” she said in a breath. “I didn’t want to lose you,” she went on, and his heart constricted. 

“I fucking love you, Princess,” he said on a laugh. 

“I think I love you too,” she admitted with a smile of her own.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed. I've played with the idea of adding a second part to this, but I won't have the time to polish up another chapter until finals are over. If you're interested in a second part, let me know :) 
> 
> Just a fun fact, this interaction is roughly based on a couple of my friends back in New York. So is the pub.


End file.
